The scenery changes fast when you're falling
by Unholy Preacher
Summary: Early adventures of a young ninja
1. Rooftops

Disclaimer: all characters are the property of Tecmo, except for maybe a few supporting ones.  
  
The scenery changes fast when you're falling. Genra thought as he jumped down into the rooftop of his apartment building. The young ninja landed right in the middle of his garden. White roses were everywhere. That was the only thing he planted.  
  
He sensed the air shift behind him. He turned around just in time to catch the blade that aimed directly between his eyes.  
  
"Hayabusa…"  
  
"Nice catch Gen."  
  
"Nice knife." He said throwing the weapon back to its owner.  
  
His friend was none other than Ken Hayabusa. Who, along with his newborn son, was the only remaining member of the powerful Hayabusa ninja bloodline.   
  
"Tell me Gen," Ken began, "do you always travel from roof to roof in broad daylight?"  
  
There was a playful tone in his friend's voice suggesting that he was only joking around with him. Although they had known each other for a relatively short time, they had worked on many missions together. In that short time, their friendship had grown to the point where they could push each other's button without fear of reprisal from the other.  
  
"I prefer it up here than down there."  
  
"Ah, still paranoid about the city eh?"  
  
"Not really," Genra looked down to the streets beneath. "I can take care of myself well enough. I just don't like it down there. This city has grown worse and worse. Besides, it's much more peaceful up here. Time seems to slow down the higher up you are."  
  
He looked up towards Ken who was staring at him silently. "Why are you here Hayabusa?"  
  
"I just had a word with your clan leader. She wants us to go on a mission for her."  
  
Genra smiled. "Why do you involve yourself in Hajin Mon affairs anyway? You're not bound to."  
  
"I don't know. I guess I just get bored easily. I don't have a clan of my own to order me around."  
  
"So what is this mission?"  
  
"Nothing terribly exciting like the other ones," Ken snickered, "but definitely more important: we have to retrieve some old scrolls. I'm not sure what your leader wants with it, but she said it contains some powerful secrets. One of your fellow Hajin Mon has already located them. They've somehow gotten into the hands of some bookstore owner in China. It's our job to retrieve it."  
  
"And that's it? They want us to steal some pieces of paper from some bookworm? Why does she need both of us for that?"  
  
"In case we run into some problems. This guy's more dangerous than he appears. You're my backup."  
  
"I'm the backup?" Genra said in feigned disbelief. "It's my own clan and I'm the backup."  
  
"Don't take it personally. She probably feels that I have more experience than you."  
  
author's note: Please read and review. Flames, constructive criticisms, suggestions, or anything else are all welcomed. 


	2. Airports

The sun set upon the tall buildings in the distance. The plane descended down with it. The two ninjas walked out and watched the golden streaks of light through the large glass windows. The sun was now behind an unfinished building that was still in construction. Genra loved sunsets; they were just so beautifully sad that his heart would stop every time he saw one. It was like the sky opened up and showed a glimpse of heaven. And it seemed even more special when viewed from here.  
  
"Certainly is beautiful isn't it Hayabusa?" He said, turning to his friend, who was staring at a group of flight attendants ahead of them.  
  
"Huh…?" Ken looked at him confused for a second, and then smiled. "Oh yes, it certainly is."  
  
Genra ignored his companion and continued his glances to the darkening skies as he walked. Daylight showed the ugliness of the world, while the night covered the beauty with its filth; but sunsets, that's when everything is turned into gold. The dawn he rarely saw, he wasn't a morning person. Sunsets, however, that was the part of the day that he looked forward to. That brief moment that changes so rapidly but somehow freezes time itself. It would turn from gold to red to a deep blue violet until the night would slowly, but inevitably, swallow everything. That was why night filled him with dread. And it was at night that they would creep into the bookstore building and steal the scrolls.   
  
"If we do this right, we won't have to worry about any confrontation." Ken had said while they were quietly crawling through the large vents - careful not to sound any alarm. It was during these times that Genra was thankful for the mask covering his mouth and nose. He smiled at the thought of having actually found more practical uses for it.  
  
"Where does he keep them?" His voice was hushed, though a little impatient.  
  
"In his office" Ken answered in an equal manner.  
  
"Why don't we just break through the entrance?"  
  
"He's sleeping just upstairs. Stealth is the key here."  
  
Genra suddenly felt his friend's palm in his chest, signaling for him to stop. He looked up and saw Ken with an index finger over his cloth covered mouth, telling him to be silent. They both looked intently through the opening beneath them - watching for any signs of movement. After some time small pockets of light began to appear. Searching like big bright eyes.   
  
Whoever the owners of the flashlights were; they were very clumsy. Their rough search through the office drawers and filing cabinets was making a terrible clatter. Finally, the two dim pockets of light disappeared, replaced by the much brighter light that was suddenly turned on.   
  
Genra couldn't make out the new arrival but he was certain that it was the owner. "What are you doing here? Get out before I call the police." He heard the voice say.  
  
He then saw one of the two men in black pull out a gun. Before he could react, Ken broke through the covering first and landed directly on the armed intruder. The gun shot rang through the small room but missed its target. Genra followed Ken down and quickly scanned the room. There were more men there than he originally thought. There were three men there excluding the Chinese man who he perceived was the owner.   
  
Ken was struggling with one of them for the gun. The other one now found the scrolls and began to escape. His entrance was blocked, however, by the owner. He tossed the scrolls to the third before the Chinese man struck with a double palm that knocked him all the way to the other side of the room. The third man started to run, also, with the scrolls in his possession. Genra, seeing this, went after him.   
  
The man ran all the way outside to the streets where a small white van had been waiting. Genra wanted to catch it before they had the chance to make an escape but something sharp sliced through the air behind him. He caught the sword between two palms before it reached his face; then falling back, he redirected the sword's point to the pavement while his left foot positioned itself into his assailant's stomach. The attacker was flipped over into the street but quickly recovered and rolled to his feet. Genra, too, stood back and examined his opponent more clearly. He could see now that it was another shinobi that attacked him. Like him, he was wearing a mask.  
  
The shinobi took out a knife and quickly struck at Genra, ripping his purple cotton garment. Genra, in turn, locked onto the shinobi's arm. His grip wasn't strong enough, however, and as his assailant escaped, he desperately grabbed for his mask and tore it away. He turned back and realized that the shinobi was not a "him" but a konoichi. Strands of her long dark reddish hair covered parts her face, but he recognized her immediately.  
  
"Satoko…?" He yelled in surprise. He took off his own mask. "It's me…Genra."  
  
Her face remained unresponsive, which troubled him greatly. He barely noticed the bright light coming closer until it caressed her features. Genra turned and saw a white van coming towards him. The impact sent him flying a few yards away. Pain surged through his body until he finally lost consciousness.   
  
author's note: please read and review.   
  
Flames, constructive criticisms, or anything else are all welcomed. 


End file.
